ossings ended in the hopeless bogging of horses and
camels, entailing the carrying of loads and saddles. At last we could not
get them to face the task at all; and small wonder, for floundering about
in soft, sticky mud is at least unpleasant! I am pretty confident that we
could have managed to get the camels through somehow, but the horses were
far too weak to struggle. Poor old Highlander sank to his belly,
struggled for a minute just long enough to get further engulfed, and then
threw up the sponge and lay panting until we came to his rescue. We had a
job to get him to the shore, and only succeeded by digging out two legs
on one side, putting a rope round them, then the same on the other, and
by violent efforts dragged him on to his side. Then, one at his head and
the rest on his legs, we turned him over and over until we came on firmer
ground, when we put the ropes on his legs again and by main force hauled
him on his flank to the margin of the lake, where he lay half dead. The
others fared but little better; it was evident that a crossing could not
be effected except at the cost of the horses.

From a sandhill near our camp numerous hills could be seen, the more
prominent of which I named. To the West-North-West a table-top hill
(Mount Courtenay, after my brother-in-law) standing in front of a
prominent tableland; to the northward Mount Lancelot; to the
East-South-East a line of cliffs standing above stony rises, at the
southern end a bluff point (Point Katharine, after my sister); and eight
miles to the South-South-West, two flat-topped hills, close
together--these I named Mount Dora and Mount Elisabeth after two of my
sisters. Little did I think that I was never to see again the dear face
of one of them! As a last hope, I and Breaden went across the lake to
these hills to look for a break in the swamps. From Mount Elisabeth an
extensive view can be obtained, but no signs of the lake coming to an
end. From Mount Elisabeth, which, by the way, is of quartzite, I took the
following bearings: Mount Courtenay 331 degrees, Mount Lancelot 23
degrees, Point Katharine, 78 degrees. To the West numerous broken
tablelands can be seen, and the same to the South. Clearly there was no
chance of crossing this lake or rounding it on the North, for the white
streak of salt could be seen for miles and miles in that direction. There
was nothing to be done but to skirt the edge of the lake, and if
connected with Lake Wells to skirt tha